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That room with those four walls that have been painted over,
and the pictures which have been erased and drawn again.
That room which contains so many of my memories,
a majority of time we shared was here.
That room smelled like death before it even occurred;
this room is the one that I memorized every detail.
This is the room which is permanently engrained in my head;
this is the room that haunts me, asleep or awake.
People tell me it is better to have loved and lost—
than never to have loved at all.
But I disagree.
Because in loving you I know that I once had you,
and now you are gone, I can never get you back no matter how hard I try.
I remember everything about you—
I remember how you used to dress, how you used to smell,
and more importantly, your voice.
I remember how you used to tell all of your friends I was the best thing that ever happened to you.
I remember how at night when I couldn’t sleep;
I would think about you and instantly fall asleep. I felt safe.
I remember how you used to wait by the phone every night,
wishing I would call so you could hear my voice.
I remember how I would call you bawling,
and you would comfort me, telling me everything will be okay.
And I remember how you were always there when I needed you the most.
In Loving Memory Of:
Donna Denise (Mother)